The 2017 Mariner Rendezvous “Westward to Essex”

July 25-27; Essex, Conn.

Let’s get one thing straight: I’m an O’Day Mariner fanatic. I have owned my 1970

Mariner Orion, hull #1922, since 2007 and have since held three different positions on the

Mariner Class Association Executive Board including President (twice). I have a website for my

own boat (shameless plug: www.mariner1922.com) and have organized fleet and national

Mariner rendezvous since 2009. I can be a little obsessive about Mariners, as my wife will

confirm. After organizing a big (eighteen boats!) 2013 rendezvous at Mystic Seaport,

Connecticut celebrating fifty years since the “birth” of the Mariner, I continued to use Mystic

Seaport as an annual destination; with so much to see and do, it’s the perfect place for sailors to

visit. Mariners from all over the country would first gather at the Niantic River launch ramp on

a Friday and sail to Mystic, stay two nights either by renting slips or staying in the anchorage,

and return home on a Sunday. In 2017, though, I chose the new location of Brewer’s Essex

Island Marina, just to keep things interesting. Also, to save on slip rentals and various other

costs – and for sailors to avoid horrendous weekend highway traffic – I decided to make it a

mid-week event from Tuesday to Thursday. I knew this alone would prevent some folks from

attending, but dates were set, and by the time registration ended, eight boats and fourteen

sailors had signed up. Not bad!

I was anxious to motor over to the state-owned launch ramp Mago Point, Waterford

early on Tuesday morning from Orion’s mooring on the Niantic River. I got Orion ready to go,

including clipping my Mariner burgee, flown at every Rendezvous since the 2013 event, on the

starboard upper shroud. By the time I

motored over to launch ramp, most

everyone had arrived and were setting

up their boats. Skies were overcast and

the air was wonderfully cool. As I tied

up my boat at the ramp’s docks and

surveyed the area, I noticed Chris Albert

(#2714 Flotsam) had already launched his

boat since he dry-sails his boat right

there at the marina adjacent to the ramp.

Jack Lorraine, from Virginia (#1469 Thin

Water Explorer, or TWE) also had his boat

launched and ready to go, as did Mark

Bentley from New York (Invictus). Tim

and Erin Reiche from Pennsylvania

(#2170 Maggie) were rigging their boat

while keeping a close eye on their three-year-old son, Owen. Steve Creighton and Joanne

McCarthy from New Jersey (#629 Blind Squirrel) had their boat partially backed down the

launch ramp with a custom bottom plug removed to drain their cockpit of accumulated

rainwater. Before long, Bill and Teresa Eggers, along with daughter Jillian, showed up from

New York with #2280 Julie B, and Dan Meaney with daughter Madeline drove down from

Tim Reiche launching #2170 Maggie

Ellington to put his boat in the water (#2024 Clew Sea Nuf) since he also dry-sails at Mago Point

like Chris. Niantic had turned into Mariner country once again!

I might take a moment now to comment on the resourcefulness of Mariner owners. After

the Reiches had launched Maggie, they were looking for a place to tie up and wait while the rest

of the fleet launched their boats. The only spot available seemed to be on the other side of the

floating docks where the pilings were. This was less than ideal since there was a large bolt

holding a section of the docks together, and it had worked its way out past the edge of the dock

and threatened to gouge a hole in the side of any boat that tried to tie up there. The simplest

solution was to knock the head of the bolt back underneath the dock, but where would one find

a sizeable hammer to do so? Mark Bentley, tied up nearby, shouted, “I’ve got something!” He

ducked inside his cabin and returned wielding the most enormous ball pein hammer I had ever

seen in my life. A couple sharp whacks with the hammer solved the problem, and Tim

maneuvered Maggie safely into position. Mark never explained why he keeps such a gigantic

hammer onboard a small boat like an O’Day Mariner, but it sure came in useful that day!

We left the docks a bit later than we expected as Steve’s 1971 outboard was acting up,

and while waiting for the Niantic Railroad bridge to open, the Eggers’ boat had a bit of a close

encounter with a fishing barge as the fierce incoming current swept them right into it. However,

no harm was done, and the bridge eventually opened to let us all through at once. After we had

motored past the last channel marker out in Niantic Bay, Steve and Joanne set their sails and I

cast them off, raising my own sails shortly afterward. There wasn’t much of a northeast wind

out in the bay, but there was enough to move us along, and the current was favorable – for the

time being. I was at the very back of the pack,

and the fleet all had their sails up; what a great

sight!

We very slowly rounded Black Point

headed due west, and I took a few minutes to

rig my asymmetrical spinnaker in the hopes of

catching up to the rest of the gang. Sure

enough, by working the intermittent puffs I

was able to gain some ground and overtake

some of the stragglers. A couple folks had

opted to try their luck in finding more wind by

the coast near Old Lyme Shores, and some

headed below Hatchett’s Reef. It didn’t seem to

matter where you went; it was slow going

regardless. Any small puffs of air wouldn’t last

more than half a minute, and everyone did

their best to make the most of them. It took a

long time to finally reach the Saybrook

breakwater, but what do you know – the

asymmetrical spinnaker had pulled me into the

lead! Yet we were all close by together, so when Sailing with the spinnaker

we finally ran out of wind going up the Connecticut River toward the Old Lyme railroad bridge

and turned our motors on, we got through the open bridge en mass. Thankfully, Steve’s motor

had recovered, and although it still acted up, he managed to keep it going as we progressed up

the river.

We continued motoring underneath the tall highway bridge, gently curving

northwestward past Calves Island and Goose Island. Essex was dead ahead, and although I had

sailed to Essex several times before and had visited our destination – Brewer’s Essex Island

Marina – by car earlier in the year, this was my first time arriving at the Essex Island Marina by

boat. I had my binoculars handy as we approached, searching for the entrance to the floating

docks amidst the other marina signs. Sure

enough, as we motored slowly through the

mooring field, the entrance became more

obvious to us, and I radioed the marina to let

them know we were coming in. I watched as a

few marina folks came out to take places at the

floating docks to give us a hand tying up. One

by one, we filed into the empty slips until they

were all full, and there was a momentary flurry

of activity as sailors secured their boats and

marina dockhands adjusted docklines to make

sure everyone would fit. Eventually, all motors

were shut off, sailors stretched their legs on the

docks, and I breathed a sigh of relief. We had

made it!

The marina itself was quite active as many other boaters were there from other visiting

boats. There was a nearby swimming pool, swingset for kids, picnic area with grills, volleyball

net, and outdoor game area. Large power cruisers, most from New York, flanked our own

floating docks, and a number of kids were running about, but we weren’t bothered by them at

all. (I did, though, end up turning Orion around in her slip so the companionway wouldn’t be

facing toward the marina, affording me a bit more privacy.) It was quite different than having

our own, private docks given to us in previous years at Mystic Seaport, but it wasn’t necessarily

unpleasant – until later on that night. (More on that later.) The lawns were well-manicured, the

heads immaculate; it was obvious the marina was a prime destination spot for transients and

they wanted to keep it that way.

One of the benefits of having a mid-week rendezvous is that prices are a lot cheaper

than what they are on the weekends. Stephanie, the manager at Brewer’s Essex Island Marina,

usually charges $200 a day on a weekend to rent “The Deck”, a fully-covered pavilion

overlooking the docks and attached to a storage building and an indoor function room.

However, she let us have use of it for free since our event was during the week. We used it as

our own, private “hang-out” area over the course of the event, and when we first arrived there,

we were happy to find tables and chairs waiting for us so we could relax a bit. Almost

immediately, sailors brought to one of the tables a plethora of snacks in the form of crackers,

Tying up at the marina

cheese, breads, and fruit to share with

everybody else. It was a spontaneous snack

potluck, and I was personally quite grateful

as I had mistakenly left all of my food at

home the previous night.

Before we knew it, it was time to go

to dinner. I had made reservations at the

nearby 1776 Griswold Inn, and since we

were indeed on an island, we needed to take

a small ferry – a covered pontoon boat with

a sizeable outboard and seating capacity of

just six – across the hundred-foot channel

between the island and Essex proper. The

ferry made a few trips for us all to make it, and we walked the short distance up the street to the

historic Inn. The walls in the main dining area are literally covered with paintings and prints of

steamboats that used to come to Essex during the nineteenth century, and the nautical

atmosphere, combined with the absolutely fantastic food, made for a wonderful evening. Ice

cream at Sweet P’s, just across the street from the Inn, was the perfect ending to our meal.

Eventually, we all made it back to our boats for the night. We were pretty tuckered out

from the day’s activities, so many of us attempted to fall asleep a bit early. Mosquitos and gnats

seemed to be gathering strength, so I draped the forward hatch and companionway with

appropriate netting, and I climbed into my sleeping bag inside Orion’s cabin. However, many of

our powerboat neighbors – perhaps more than a bit inebriated – decided to remain rowdy for

quite some time. Gut-splitting guffaws and unnecessarily loud talking shattered whatever

peace us Mariner sailors were desperately trying to find. Furthermore, as my boat was closest to

the main bulkhead, Orion’s cabin filled with cigar smoke wafting in through the forward hatch

from several gentlemen sitting at picnic tables only a boat-length away. Normally, I’m not

affected by the smell of cigar or cigarette smoke, but the odor was so intense I found myself

nearly choking. I retreated to the open air of the cockpit, preferring to battle mosquitos rather

than endure suffocation. While there, and only a few minutes later, I witnessed a couple from

one of the powerboats angrily stomping back to their boat from the ferry shuttle, screaming at

each other, accusing each other of various marital infractions and coloring their language with a

wide variety of expletives. It was loud enough for the entire island to hear. Once they finally

went inside their boat, things quieted down and the other powerboaters eventually left as well.

The air became still, the stars looked beautiful, and everything seemed right with the world. I

went back into Orion’s cabin and enjoyed a restful night’s sleep.

The sun woke me up early on Wednesday morning, and I slowly climbed out of the

cabin. The air was cool, and it was only then that I realized I had worn a long-sleeved shirt and

long pants the entire previous day – very unusual for late July! The sky was brightening quickly

with not a cloud to be found; it was shaping up to be an absolutely gorgeous day. Most other

Mariner sailors were still asleep, so I gathered some clothes and walked up the docks to the

bathrooms to take a shower. By the time I got back to Orion, more sailors were starting to wake

Hanging out on The Deck

up, heading to The Deck with breakfast

goodies which we all shared. We talked for a

bit before splitting up to pursue our own

interests. I took a short walk around the tiny

island and took the ferry ashore to and walk

around town and see the sights.

Essex is a village determined to hang

onto its historical roots. Like Mystic, it

glorifies its maritime past and is damn proud

of it. The tree-lined Main Street runs the

length of a fairly long peninsula, terminating

at a landing at the water’s edge near the

Connecticut River Museum. It was here the

British landed six rowing boats in the dead of

night and torched twenty-seven American ships in April of 1814. It was also here where

steamboats docked in the mid- to late-nineteenth century to pick up and drop off passengers

headed to and from places such as Hartford and New York. Houses once owned by ship

captains and builders, built in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, flank Main Street on

either side and are faithfully kept in pristine condition by their inhabitants today. Shops for

clothing, toys, food, antiques, and collectables are sprinkled amongst the private residences. A

church, post office, hardware and grocery store, and several real estate establishments round

out the eclectic array of buildings. A small park, complete with a gazebo, borders on Middle

Cove and is open to the public. It’s a beautiful town, and it was a pleasure to simply roam

around and exchange pleasantries with the super-rich and well-dressed (yet unusually and

genuinely friendly) locals polishing their BMWs and Mercedes parked in their driveways

abutting Main Street.

Later that morning, we all gathered –

minus the Reiche family, who chose instead

to walk a couple miles to the Essex Steam

Train for Owen’s benefit – at the Connecticut

River Museum for a group tour led by the

Jennifer White-Dobbs, the Director of

Education. She spoke at length about the first

settlers of Essex (originally called Pettipaug),

the British raid in 1814, the Connecticut River

itself, the town’s fishing heritage, and even

the first submarine built nearby in Saybrook

in 1776. Jennifer’s hour-long presentation

was very well done, and we all came away a

bit more knowledgeable of the area and the

importance of the River.

Sunrise over the fleet

Touring the Connecticut River Museum

After the tour, we all found lunch at

various establishments before gathering

once again in the afternoon at the

Connecticut River Museum for a small

excursion onboard the Onrust. A 2009 full-

sized replica of the fifty-two-foot ship used

by Dutch explorer Adriaen Block to explore

the Connecticut River and many other

nearby coastal areas in 1614, it is docked at

the Museum for the summer and available

for short afternoon or evening cruises on the

River. As we prepared to board Onrust, I

was happy to see current Mariner Class

Association President Eric Lesniak had

driven all the way up from New Jersey to

join us! We all went aboard, sat down on

benches and watched as the Onrust’s skipper and two crew carefully maneuvered her through

the mooring field (under power from a carefully-concealed and Coast Guard-regulated inboard

engine). The ship’s crew encouraged us Mariner sailors to help out with various halyards and

lines as the sails were unfurled, which we did with pleasure. Jack, Steve, and Mark spent the

most time at the massive tiller, and I myself had the pleasure of taking the helm for a few

minutes as we sailed up the river in light

winds and a fast current. The Captain, Dan

Thompson, was as laid-back a skipper as

I’ve ever known in my entire life, issuing

commands such as, “Well, what do you

think? Should we raise the jib now? I guess

we could – why not. I tell you what – let’s

head over this way a bit, how about it?”

We’d be hard-pressed to find a more relaxed

atmosphere, and the two crew proficiently

went about their business, working in

complete concert with the captain.

Soon enough, it was time to turn

around, and with the current and wind

against us, the sails were furled and the

motor was turned on. As we approached the

Museum’s docks, we passed the Essex Island Marina and saw our own boats. I couldn’t help

but chuckle at the sight: bordering the floating slips were gigantic white power boats, carefully

washed and looking as if they had come straight from a boat show. And then there were our

small, multi-colored Mariners in the middle, tarps and awnings erected with some towels and

pieces of clothing hanging from booms to dry in the sun and breeze. Our blue-collar Mariner

“shanty-town” certainly was a stark contrast to our polished and sparkling neighbors!

Onrust

Onrust's crew and captain hamming it up for the picture with Jack Lorraine at the tiller

Back at the museum, we thanked the skipper and crew and passed through the

museum’s gift shop on our way back into town. A few of us shopped around a bit more before

our scheduled catered dinner on the island, and the Reiches returned from their trek to the

Steam Train. I made my way back to Orion and was not unhappy to see our New York

powerboaters had moved on and the slips were empty – perhaps sleep would come a bit easier

that night. I settled down in the cockpit to read a chapter of a book I had bought at the museum,

but within moments I was invited to join a “pool party” consisting of Steve, Joanne, and the

Reiches. It didn’t take much convincing, so I donned swim shorts, grabbed a towel, and went to

the marina’s pool. Despite the warm weather, apparently, icebergs had only recently melted in

the unheated pool, and it was some time before I actually entered the water. Nevertheless, we

had a good time (for as short as it lasted) and got back into regular clothes in time for dinner.

A stone’s throw away from the docks

on the island is Marley’s Café, a very small

seafood restaurant with outdoor seating.

Normally open only on weekends, head chef

Jeff Odekerken, with wife and co-owner

Claudia Odekerken, agreed back in February

to come in and prepare us a catered dinner

of greens, lobster bisque, salmon, steak, and

strawberry shortcake. Everything was made

to perfection, and we thanked them

profusely for their expertise before going our

separate ways.

Some went back to their boats, others

went into town once more; I met up with

Dan and Madeline Meaney who joined me

on a short walk on a nature trail on the north

end of the island. The trail extended up a peninsula on the island, allowing beautiful views of

North Cove to the west and the Connecticut River to the east. At the very end of the trail was

access to a small beach, normally covered at high tide but completely exposed at low tide,

which it was. We went out on it and looked around, taking pictures of the landscape (and

ourselves, unashamedly) in the twilight before walking back to the marina. I was sorry to have

missed Eric Lesniak’s departure; I was thankful he made the trip to join in some of the fun. I

recovered Orion’s hatches with mosquito netting before sliding inside my sleeping back on the

V-berth. I attempted to read my book again, but sleep came quickly.

Thursday morning dawned with sun but plenty of gathering clouds. It seemed to be

warmer than the past two days as I once again went to take a morning shower and surveyed the

docks. The Eggers were enjoying coffee in Julie B’s cockpit, and Mark was heating up his own

coffee with a portable stove. We all met once again on The Deck, bringing what each of us had

to share in a communal breakfast. I went a little later on with a few folks for something a bit

more substantial at Olive Oyl’s, a nearby take-out restaurant in the town. By the time we got

back, sailors were taking their time getting their boats ready to head back to Niantic. Hanging

Wednesday night dinner

towels and clothes were put away, sleeping bags were rolled up and stowed, cockpit awnings

and covers were taken down and folded. As departure time neared, I thanked Stephanie, the

marina manager one more time, and she kindly took a picture of all of us by our boats. After

radio and engine checks, we cast off the docklines, motored out into the channel, and said

goodbye to Essex.

The wind was light and variable, but

that didn’t stop us from raising our sails

and making the best of it all the way to the

highway bridge. There, it seemed to gather

a bit of strength, although we took our sails

down so we could motor through the

upcoming railroad bridge since the wind

was right on the nose. Right as we passed

underneath the highway bridge, Chris

Albert’s motor on Flotsam sputtered to a

stop, and he called for help on the radio.

The Eggers promptly motored over and,

after a couple attempts, secured a towline

and managed to pull him through the

railroad bridge when it opened. Once

through, we raised our sails again and set our sights for the Saybrook lighthouse and

breakwater. Jack and the Reiches were well in the lead, but I hung back to keep an eye on Chris

in Flotsam and Mark in Invictus at the rear.

By the time we rounded the lighthouse, the skies had become completely overcast and

the southwest wind was slowly dropping. We kept our eyes open for puffs and wung out our

mains and jibs to catch whatever slight breeze we could. Soon, we were barely moving, and

though it wasn’t all that unpleasant, I’d be lying if I said we weren’t a little frustrated. The

current changed to be in our favor, but progress was slow, and the Saybrook lighthouse seemed

to be hovering exasperatingly nearby. Certain that wind was approaching ahead by the looks of

the water, I tried to buoy spirits over the radio until I realized, at the last second, it wasn’t wind

I saw coming our way – it was a downpour. Well, that was the proverbial last straw – as the

rain suddenly swept over the fleet, we finally relented and took our sopping sails down and

fired up our outboards to motor the rest of the way home.

Chris in Flotsam had figured out the problem with his engine (it was actually his fuel

tank) and jury-rigged a solution, enabling him to make progress on his own. Unfortunately,

Steve and Joanne came on the radio reporting that their outboard was unable to start again.

Mark in Invictus came to the rescue this time, putting his six-horsepower motor to good use by

towing them the remaining six miles back to Niantic. In the meantime, the rain had thankfully

reduced to almost nothing, so we all settled down for the final journey home under power.

The Eggers in Julie B sailing out of Essex

The hour-long trip back to Niantic

was uneventful, and the Eggers and I, at the

very back, had to wait for the railroad bridge

to close for an approaching train. We drifted

in the channel near the bridge and chatted

until the train thundered past and the bridge

opened for us. We motored to the launch

ramp and found, despite it only being a

Thursday afternoon and not a weekend, the

ramp was quite crowded with other boaters

jockeying for position to haul out their

various runabouts. Everything moved fairly

quickly, however, and all the Mariners were

plucked out of the water while I tied Orion to the very end of one of the ramp’s floating docks.

Derigging a Mariner always goes faster than rigging one, and I was surprised at how fast and

efficiently some crews worked. Clearly, they have done this before!

After going around and helping

where I could, I realized it was time to tend

to my own boat. I said some final words of

thanks, snapped a few last pictures, and

made my way to Orion. After traveling with

the group for the past few days, it seemed

odd to suddenly be alone, motoring away

from the launch ramp where fellow Mariner

sailors were still preparing to leave and start

their various treks home. Once I was back on

my mooring, I raised my mainsail one last

time and unfurled the jib to shake out

whatever rainwater remained, then carefully

rolled the jib back up and neatly flaked the

main. I went through my own mental

checklist of putting the boat to bed and – reluctantly – unclipped my Mariner burgee and

stowed it below in the cabin. I rowed away from Orion as she sat at her mooring and drove

home soon afterward – another successful Rendezvous had ended.

Mystic Seaport is a tough destination to top, but I’m glad we went to Essex this year. It

was fun for us all to experience to a new place. I suppose one could call Essex a “mini-Mystic”

as it shares many common attributes, such as the historic atmosphere, friendly people, and lots

to see and do. While I missed the seclusion and privacy afforded us at Mystic Seaport after

hours when the gates are closed to the public, it was nice to have everything so close by our

Motoring home

Steve and Joanne ready to go

floating docks. Essex is an absolutely beautiful town, and although there might not be as many

things to do compared to Mystic, it was perfect for a couple days’ stay. Having the event mid-

week instead of on a weekend was also nice so prices were cheaper and it wasn’t so crowded,

although I know it was more of a time commitment for sailors.

I’m really grateful for the turn-out of

Mariner sailors that have come year after year.

I enjoy sailing solo, but there’s always

something special about sharing a great sailing

experience with friends and family. That’s why

I look forward to the annual Rendezvous so

much – it’s always a great time, and it truly is

like a family reunion, even with new faces. It’s

easy for me to organize these get-togethers in

Niantic since Orion is right there, and all I have

to do is drive an hour from home, row out to

her and I’m underway within minutes since

she’s all ready to go. Almost everybody else

has a much longer drive – mostly from out of

state – and must spend time rigging their boat

and launching it once they get to Niantic. On

top of that, the registration fees are generally fairly high because dockage is so expensive no

matter where you go, and I’m grateful to the Mariner Class Association for kicking in some

money to help defray the costs. But above all, I’m especially thankful for the participation of the

sailors. Since the big fiftieth anniversary Rendezvous in 2013, over thirty individual Mariners

and over sixty sailors have sailed in these events. I know it’s a big commitment, and I can’t

thank all of you enough for taking part. I sure hope you have enjoyed them.

I’m already excited about what 2018 will bring.

Nate Bayreuther

#1922, Orion

Dan Meaney and Chris Albert with their Mariners